


Presentation.

by Jarakrisafis



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Multi, Rope Bondage, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:20:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27422599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jarakrisafis/pseuds/Jarakrisafis
Summary: Varric didn't expect his Cadash to turn into two. He has no regrets.
Relationships: Female Cadash/Varric Tethras/Male Cadash
Comments: 4
Kudos: 3
Collections: 2020 A Paragon of Their Kind Dragon Age Dwarf Exchange





	Presentation.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sunspot (unavoidedcrisis)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/unavoidedcrisis/gifts).



“Tethras.”

Varric startles at weight against his back and the voice, low and full of menace. His glass is swept off his desk as he reaches for Bianca; if not for the imminent threat he’d lament the waste of a good whisky. The sound of broken glass settling is loud as he stills, cold steel against his neck, his arm still reaching for his weapon.

He hadn’t heard anyone enter, the faint breeze he can feel now he's paying attention makes him think his window was his mystery attacker's point of entry. He’ll need to adjust that; the door hinges squeak for a reason. He has enough enemies that are fond of sending assassins to make things easy for them. He just has to wonder who hired this one. And why he hasn’t made the kill yet.

“Well?” He says carefully as he retracts his arm, bracing himself against his desk in case there’s a chance he can move before he gets his throat cut.

“What exactly are your intentions with Malika?” The blade doesn’t waver, nor does the voice. Both as solid and sharp edged as each other.

“Theirs nothin...” He stops abruptly as the name makes its way past the part of his brain that’s still panicking. Malika? Not Bianca? Is he not sent by House Davri? “Malika?”

There’s a hint of amusement in the voice, “yes, Malika. So called Herald, Inquisitor, the one who’s in charge of this shitshow.” the body behind him is solid as his assailant steps closer. Another dwarf, Varric thinks.

“My intentions are none of your concern.”

“No? I’d say they’re entirely my concern.”

“Since I have no idea who you are I’d say...” They both freeze as the door opens. Varric because he doesn’t want his attacker to panic and cut his throat by accident. His attacker because he's poised to leave.

Malika herself bustles into the room, looking their way but not truly seeing them. It makes Varric think she knows who his attacker is for her to dismiss what she’s seeing.

“Bugger.” His attacker says softly, the blade leaving Varric’s neck as Malika whirls back around, her mind clearly catching up with her eyes.

“Edric.” Her voice is soft, just as dangerous as his assailant's was earlier, and Varric can’t help the amused smile from spreading as he finally twists off his chair, grabbing for Bianca and aiming… “Varric, no!”

He wasn’t going to shoot, just make sure his attacker wasn’t going anywhere, the panic in her voice has him yank Bianca back down to point at the floor. His attacker stares back when he sends him a glare, a half smile on his lips, knife still held loosely in one hand.

And oh but he knows why Malika was worried he might shoot. If he had ever thought to imagine what Malika might look like as a male, he’d have his answer right here. “Edric _Cadash_?” Varric asks, the emphasis twisting his question into a statement in its own right.

The knife is put back in its sheathe. “Yes. Problem with that Messere Tethras?”

“Oh fucking grow up, both of you.” Malika says, stalking closer and jabbing a finger into Varric’s chest. “You, leave him alone he has a right to be worried about me.” Edric has a moment to smirk before it vanishes when she turns on him, “and you! How many times have I told you I’m perfectly able to gut a man that tries to take advantage of me?”

“I was just...”

“Ah ah. Varric darling, go brew some tea. I need to talk to my currently least favourite brother.”

"I'm your only brother." Edric grumbles as he nonetheless obeys his sisters order.

Talk is not exactly what they do; Varric glances back when there is only silence, to see both of them gesturing at each other, fingers flickering at a speed he can’t keep up with. Not that he knows much of the Dwarven silent speech to begin with, and besides, they're probably using some of their own Carta created signs anyway.

He turns back to the kettle, waiting for the water to boil. That would have been a terrible way to die. Taken out by a protective sibling.

\----------------

Varric has started to get used to Edric. No matter how much he traps his door and windows the damned rogue still manages to get in and Varric can never catch him in the act. At least Varric managed to not even twitch at his voice the last time he interrupted him trying to get a bit of writing done on his last manuscript.

The first time the bastard had turned up - after Malika had sat them both down and pointed out that if they murdered each other she'd kill the survivor if there was one - Varric had jerked his hand to go for his crossbow again. Unfortunately he'd had his pen dipped in his inkwell and the result was ink over a large portion of his desk, himself and a Carta rogue rolling on the floor laughing like Satinalia had come early.

Over the weeks he'd become resigned to the fact that Edric was going to be found in his company when he was banished from Malika's side. There was a story there that Josephine refused to share. Varric was still working on the best angle to use to coax it out of her.

In the meantime he has a rogue to entertain whenever Malika is off being official. He found that he appeared to be as fascinated as Malika is by Varric's stories and he could get Edric to sit down and stop pacing or throwing knives at his door or snooping through chests by promising to read to him.

Varric's starting to think he's deliberately being annoying now just to get a story. And of course Malika is no help when she turns up - she just laughs at him where he's half pinned down on the battered sofa by Edric sprawling over his legs and attempting to look pitiful.

It would work if Varric hadn't seen him fighting and knows that he can drop a templar at twenty paces with barely a glance in his target's direction. And he seems to always be around when enemies get too close to him or to Malika when they're trying to line up the perfect shot. It's like having their own very vicious, very deadly guardian, so no, he's anything but pitiful.

"Pleeeeeease Varric." Except when he is.

He grumbles as Edric snuggles even closer and Mal laughs even harder from where she's taken control of Varric's desk to finish off her pile of paperwork. See if he helps her with fancy wording anytime soon.

"You do know I've been working on the next bit of Swords and Shields for Cassandra?"

Edric nods, "yup."

"Okay then, sappy romance it is."

Edric hums happily.

Varric raises the manuscript and begins. He does enjoy reading out loud. It helps him really get a feel for if he's got things right. Sometimes when he reads it the flow is just off and he has to go adjust things. This time it flows well and he reaches the end of the segment without an interruption.

Malika snuggles into his side and he gives her a fond smile before realising that if she's there then it's Edric who's hair he's currently petting.

The rogue blinks up at him with a smirk, "wondered when you'd realise you were doing that."

Varric snatches his hand back and whaps him on the head with the rolled up manuscript. "Asshole."

\-----------------

Varric isn't sure what's different about today but Edric's been pacing back and forth with a pensive expression for the past half hour and Varric is quickly growing tired of it. He's making him dizzy while he's trying to compose important letters. He's ignored Varrc's request to sit down, so it's only natural that Varric get up and physically put his ass on a chair. Instead of the compliance he expects, that he's used to even. Edric snaps his head around, gaze fastened on Varric as soon as he stands up. He moves like a Mabari Hound unleashed against an enemy; every movement is efficient, deadly, and right now, Varric is the prey. He has a moment to contemplate that this must be the last thing so many people see before there's hands at his jaw and a wall at his back and Edric is kissing him.

He makes a startled sound at the press of lips against his own. They are probably evenly matched but Edric has the advantage with both height and weight and Varric can't shift him. It’s the point they need to stop to breathe that he realises he is no longer making any move to resist. This seems like something he should be thinking about a little more but Edric's good and Varric's arms are around his shoulders pulling him closer.

He doesn't recall closing his eyes, yet he certainly has at some point, and there's a firm hand splayed on his chest and a leg between his. There's no way Edric can't know how fucking turned on he is right now.

Edric smirks, fingers trailing down the shell of Varric’s ear and Varric has to pull himself away from the urge to lean into the contact. He’s not opposed to having a male lover, it’s just… This isn’t right - he shouldn’t... He's still got some sense left. Enough to know this could be a very bad plan. "Edric. We can't." he ignores the way his heart seems to skip a beat at the fingers on his jaw, "Malika would kill us both."

"She won't." He seems amused. "She'll be pleased you asked. But certainly not upset."

"And you'd stake your life on that? I've seen her when she's angry."

Edric laughs, "wouldn't be the first time we've shared."

That brings his mind to a stuttering stop. Oh. Is his first thought. Oh my. Is his second. His third thought would seem more at home in one of his novels.

Edric smirks and shifts his leg. Varric makes a strangled noise that might be a protest. Then again it might be encouragement.

"If it makes you feel any better though, I have an idea to run past you. Did you know it's her birthday today?"

"What?" Varric says, entirely thrown by the question.

"I had an idea for a present for her." Fingers trail through Varric's chest hair. "Mal says you enjoy being restrained."

"Yes." Varric says slowly. He has a vague idea of where this is going. "She's not got the patience to be bothered most of the time."

Edric grins. "I have lots of patience and we should be ready just as she gets out of the meeting tonight."

Varric frowns as Edric extricates himself from their embrace. "That's not for at least another hour. She said it was a dinner function."

Edric nods. The bundle he brought in earlier is opened with a flourish. Varric can see how this might take that long to set up.

"Well shit. Fuck yes."

Edric grins. "In that case, I need a watchword and I need you naked on the bed."

Varric wastes no time with either of those requests.

The rope is just as soft as it looked, the fine strands dyed a brilliant crimson. Varric is vain enough to know the colour suits himself very well.

Edric hums softly, his hands sliding over bare skin as he works. Varric wants to press into those glancing touches, the teasing possibility of warm skin. Every tug of the rope as it tightens is taking a little more of his composure and Edric is well aware of it as his touches are often not where he's currently working. 

"Varric," he turns his head to Edric, melting into the kiss before the other dwarf pulls away. "Arms behind your back, whatever position is most comfortable to hold for a while."

He obeys, wrists crossed at the small of his back. Edric continues to work with that. "How's that feel?"

He gives them a tug, happy when he has plenty of room to adjust so he won't cramp, but no give to get out of them. "Yeah, it's good."

Edric manhandles him onto his back and Varric watches through half closed eyes as he works on an intricate pattern that ties thigh to calf before repeating it on the other leg. "I'd ask you to sit up…"

Varric chuckles as Edric hauls him upright, one hand firmly cupping Varric’s ass as he does so.

Edric snickers as he jumps off the bed and backs up, looking over his work. "You make a very pretty present."

"I heard the time called, she'll probably be back soon." Varric points out. Maker, he hopes she's back soon. And willing to take pity on him.

"No doubt." Edric says, "just enough time for me to finalise the presentation."

Varric doesn't get the chance to ask what he means before Edric's leant down, one hand cupping Varric's balls and his mouth on his cock.

The litany of curses would make a whore blush as Varric can't do anything but squirm in place until Edric pulls away. Varric belatedly hears the door into the main room closing. He draws in a long breath, trying to steady his breathing. Edric clambers back onto the bed, sitting behind him and moulding his body to Varric's as he wraps his arms around him.

"Varric?"

A hand cover's Varric's mouth before he can answer. The fingers over his mouth are rough, callused and scarred from a lifetime of fighting and entirely unyielding.

"Through here sister."

"Edric? What's going on?" There's several thumps, boots hitting the ground and a cloak being carelessly discarded across the back of the couch no doubt. "I just found a note in my quarters telling me to come down here?"

"Did you forget what day it was?"

"I don't think so, fancy court meal thing with the Orle--" Malika freezes in the doorway, eyes wide.

"You did forget didn't you." Edric says, his head propped on Varric's shoulder and the hand not covering Varric's mouth slips down to trace over his cock until Varric moans, body jerking as much as it can in the ropes. "Happy birthday."

"You get me the best presents." She says, composure recovering as she very pointedly runs her gaze over her brother's work, "but aren't you meant to gift wrap it?"

"I used plenty of wrapping." Edric points out, hand tugging at a rope and Varric lets a needy whine pass his lips.

"Mmmmm, I suppose this is a lot nicer than wrapping paper." Malika's tongue darts out to lick her lips. Varric doesn’t break eye contact as her lips part again, her tongue between her teeth as she very slowly and deliberately undoes her belt. It clatters to the floor and she shrugs out of her tunic just as slowly.

Varric can't do anything but watch as she teases him, stripping slowly enough he wants to go rip the last items off her. She stalks forwards, reaching up to tangle a hand in Edric's hair and pull him around Varric for a slow kiss that does nothing to ease Varric's current state.

"Fuck." Varric says slowly as the force from her grabbing her brother means Edric has to move his hand, allowing Varric to speak again.

She smirks when she lets Edric go and turns her attention to Varric. "Fuck indeed.".

“Mal. Love,” he says, ignoring the way his voice is a touch unsteady when she makes no move to touch him, "for the love of the Maker, or the Stone, or whatever else you want to swear by, please can you fuck me?"

Her smile is not at all reassuring as she leans in, breath ghosting over his ear, "the best presents are those that are shared and savoured."


End file.
